


Anywhere but Sanctuary

by candyquasar



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Autistic Character, Autistic Sole Survivor, Echolalia, Hurt/Comfort, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary Sole Survivor (Fallout), Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-29
Updated: 2015-12-29
Packaged: 2018-05-10 04:19:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5570968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/candyquasar/pseuds/candyquasar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Piper’s leaning against the wall of Publick Occurrences as Nick approaches, and the answer to his impending question is written all over her face and the way she folds her arms tightly against herself. He tucks a note into his pocket, a small request scrawled on a scrap of paper. It was delivered to his desk the previous evening while he was out, with a note on top from Ellie, ‘Urgent?’.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anywhere but Sanctuary

**Author's Note:**

> So I haven't seen any Nonbinary Sole Survivors and I didn't want to use Nate/Nora for their name so I decided to fit in with the 4 letters, starts with 'N' trend and named them Nova as a replacement for Nate/Nora as the generic name. Please use they/them in reference to them.

Piper’s leaning against the wall of Publick Occurrences as Nick approaches, and the answer to his impending question is written all over her face and the way she folds her arms tightly against herself. He tucks a note into his pocket, a small request scrawled on a scrap of paper. It was delivered to his desk the previous evening while he was out, with a note on top from Ellie, _‘Urgent?’._

Piper kicks off the wall, keeping her arms folded as she steps towards Nick. He left her to do some detective work of her own, but it seems that might have been fruitless.

“They’re in there Nick, I couldn’t get anything out of them and-” Nick gently places a hand on Piper’s shoulder, pulling her attention away from the door to the Publick. There was anxiety in her eyes and her mouth pulled into a tight frown. She doesn’t usually interact with them nearly as much as he does, he pats her reassuringly.

“I’ll get it all sorted. Why don’t you go get some lunch?” She hesitated, looking back towards the door before muttering an ‘Alright’ and brushing past Nick. He sighs, waiting for her to be out of sight before opening the door. A pile of armor is to the immediate left as he enters, which he recognizes as Nova’s mish-mash of pieces they’ve collected across the Commonwealth. In the almost-silence he could hear the faint sound of Diamond City Radio.

“A ‘Preston Garvey’ has taken to courier to inquire about a certain blue-suited diamond.” He says as he swings his head to the right, seeing them on the couch. They wore a beige blouse -small splotches of white told him it wasn’t always as such- that was halfway unbuttoned, revealing their blue vault-suit. The blouse tucked into maroon jeans, patched over and sewed together more times than one cared to count. _Their favorite ‘casual wear’._ At their feet sat two buckets, each filled to the brim with yarn. Nova looked to Nick from the red pool in their hands.

“ _Diamond?_ ” Nick chuckled, taking a few steps forward and brushing his coat back to place a hand on his hip.   
  
“You’re right, not a good one. You’re tougher and sharper, _diamond_ doesn’t come close to fitting you.” A tight smile. They appreciated the compliment, he knew, but they couldn’t bring themself to really emote. He understands. He waves to the open space next to Nova, an unsaid ‘ _May I have this seat?’_ hanging in the air for a moment before they nod. He sits and watches Nova sort through yarn, untangling them from each other as they re-roll the thick strands into balls. Of all the ridiculous things they tended to hoard on their travels, yarn always took priority over any of the other junk. Nick always kept an eye on the yarn, it told him how they were doing.

He was worried. Sorting the yarn, untangling it, that was always saved for when they were having a tough time. It was mind-numbing and simple, didn’t require thinking. Sometimes they didn’t want to, or perhaps, couldn’t speak, or only echo his only words back at him. He didn’t really understand, but he trusted Nova knew best, so he let them do their thing and he did his best to help. Nova tended to gravitate toward Nick or Codsworth when they felt this way, though they’ve been holed up in the Publick with Piper while Nick was out. Didn’t seem like that went well though, considering Piper’s reaction.

Normally they’d show up at the Agency with a sack full of yarn and hide out in the back of his office and just pick through yarn, and when the sky dimmed he would lock up and sit with them. Because that’s all they needed. He always tried to talk to them, and when and if they needed to, they would talk back. Sometimes he held them tight, the tightness of his embrace calmed them as they listened to the sound of his insides moving, turning, and working. He wondered what brought them to Diamond City, considering both they and Codsworth were both at Sanctuary.

“ _Preston_?” They kept their gaze on the yarn, still picking it apart from one another. Nick pulls the note out of his pocket, resting the hand palm up on his knee should Nova decide to take it.

“Wanted to know if you were here or finding yourself into trouble.” They hum in acknowledgement, then their eyes flick toward Nick with a tilt of their head. Their hands still move, picking through the yarn though they do not see it. There is an expectant look, or ‘ _You and I both know Preston doesn’t send one-sentence letters.’._ “He’s worried. They all are, you know. Wondering why you left that Mr. Handy and him back at Sanctuary instead of talking things out?”   
  
Nova looks back to their now still hands, with fingers laced with yarn. Slowly, they pick the yarn off their fingers, finishing off the ball they were working on and setting it into a yarn-ball filled bucket. They place the mess of miscellaneous yarn into the other bucket before standing, turning to Nick -whom had been moving to stand- to give a halting gesture, asking him to wait. So he does.

His eyes track them as they turn away, snapping their fingers next to their ears as they walk away up stairs. The snapping stops as he can hear them riffling through their pack and the clinking of various metals as they’re pushed around. He can hear the steps as they move back to the stairs. Their eyes are on a small square in their hands, almost tripping on their buckets of yarn as they approach. They stand in front of Nick with it for a moment, before thrusting it towards him, refusing to look at him or the thing. He takes it into his hands, however, keeping his eyes trained on Nova until they take a seat again. As he turns to the object, they return to their yarn-picking.

A book. A small, faded teal board book with “You’re Special” across the cover in big block letters. If the cover didn’t tip him off, the contents certainly told him this was a children’s book, a _very specific child’s book._ On the inside cover, written neatly across the top, _Shaun, we can’t wait to see what a special person you grow up to be._ He holds the book open as he thinks, servos whirring as he processes everything.

“You went into your house?” They’d been avoiding it. They didn’t want to accept the reality of the world. Nick knew that _Nova_ knew that they were stuck here, they had no doubt about that. Though the finality of it seemed to rest in their home, or at least in Nova’s mind, a certain closure that Nova wasn’t ready to accept. They had made it off-limits to the citizens of Sanctuary, even, to keep it undisturbed.

“ _Preston_ .” They don’t look at him, just solemnly continue untangling the yarn. _Preston made you go in? Why? He knows- he knows-_ He doubts Preston forced them into going in, at least not intentionally. But he knows Nova, they would have felt pressured if he was particularly insistent. Probably saying something about the morale of the settlement, that the one house untouched was the good General’s.

“Did you think you were ready to go in?” Their hands hesitate a moment before they answer.

“ _You’re tougher and sharper, diamond.”_ They’re upsetted by the words they echo, raking the yarn off their hands so they can bring their fists up near their head and shaking in wrath. He considers his next words as Nova hops off the couch, spilling the bucket of tangled yarn so they can jump and stomp around the room. He sets the bucket right and gathers up the spilled yarn, waiting patiently for them. They move around the room, and when they come back from the far end by the stairs they won’t sit, but he sees that they may be ready to continue.

“You’re as tough as nails, I’ll give you that. But you don’t need to do anything you’re not ready for, alright kid?” They are looking around the room, alternating between flapping their hands and shaking their fists.

“ _Alright kid.”_ They nod as they continue to shake their fists. Nick stands, careful to avoid the buckets. Nova looks towards him.   
  
“Can I hug ‘ya? Yes or no?” He holds his arms up.   
  
“ _Yes.”_ They slow their shaking to avoid accidentally hitting him. He envelops them in a tight hug, trapping their -previously shaking- arms between them. Nova wiggles down, angling their head against his chest so they can hear his insides whirr.


End file.
